I Think This One Got Away From Me
Dec. 5th, 2010 11:22 pmDone: my presentation and write-up for the Big Indian Drumming Project (which went surprisingly smoothly), the make-up assignment for the all the readings I couldn't go to for Non-Fiction, the first half of my poetry paper
Still to do: the second half of my poetry paper (due Friday but really Thursday because I'm leaving Friday morning), my 10 page paper on spy fiction (due Wednesday), the rewrite of my football story (due tomorrow) and a short concert report (due ASAP).
So of course this is a perfect time for my brain to decide I need to write Jeeves and Wooster fic.
I just...I...okay, I was on the way to work and talking to![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
colourofsaying about Jeeves and Wooster and Bertie meeting the Lost Generation ex-pats in Paris while he was on vacation, as you do, and one of us brought up Jeeves getting into an allusion-off with TS Eliot over Bertie's affections and look, all of a sudden all I could think of was one of Bertie's friends seducing him at Eton by reciting Greek drama at him.
Because, well, all of Bertie's friends in school had a bit of a crush on him, because he was all wide-eyed and innocent and what is same-sex boarding school for if not awkward handjobs? So they're studying their Greek - and you know what the Greeks are like - and one of Bertie's friends get it into his head to convince Bertie that he's developed some passionate love of amateur theatrics and desperately needs someone to read lines with him from the classic plays to help him get ready for a performance.
So they're in Bertie's room, ties thrown carelessly over the bed rail, collars loosened, reciting romantic Greek poetry at each other, and Bertie doesn't really notice that they're getting closer and closer to each other until Bingo - let's say it's Bingo, because why not? - is close enough to kiss him. And then he does - very gently, like, because this is still a little scary and liable to go wrong - and Bertie kisses him back, and neither of them break scene because Greek poetry is so much better for this than anything they could say on their own, and the next thing Bertie knows he's sprawled on the bed with Bingo's hand down his trousers while he mouthes frantic Greek into his collarbone.
...I need to learn some Greek so I can write this.
Still to do: the second half of my poetry paper (due Friday but really Thursday because I'm leaving Friday morning), my 10 page paper on spy fiction (due Wednesday), the rewrite of my football story (due tomorrow) and a short concert report (due ASAP).
So of course this is a perfect time for my brain to decide I need to write Jeeves and Wooster fic.
I just...I...okay, I was on the way to work and talking to
colourofsaying about Jeeves and Wooster and Bertie meeting the Lost Generation ex-pats in Paris while he was on vacation, as you do, and one of us brought up Jeeves getting into an allusion-off with TS Eliot over Bertie's affections and look, all of a sudden all I could think of was one of Bertie's friends seducing him at Eton by reciting Greek drama at him.Because, well, all of Bertie's friends in school had a bit of a crush on him, because he was all wide-eyed and innocent and what is same-sex boarding school for if not awkward handjobs? So they're studying their Greek - and you know what the Greeks are like - and one of Bertie's friends get it into his head to convince Bertie that he's developed some passionate love of amateur theatrics and desperately needs someone to read lines with him from the classic plays to help him get ready for a performance.
So they're in Bertie's room, ties thrown carelessly over the bed rail, collars loosened, reciting romantic Greek poetry at each other, and Bertie doesn't really notice that they're getting closer and closer to each other until Bingo - let's say it's Bingo, because why not? - is close enough to kiss him. And then he does - very gently, like, because this is still a little scary and liable to go wrong - and Bertie kisses him back, and neither of them break scene because Greek poetry is so much better for this than anything they could say on their own, and the next thing Bertie knows he's sprawled on the bed with Bingo's hand down his trousers while he mouthes frantic Greek into his collarbone.
...I need to learn some Greek so I can write this.